Craig David

Craig David; we all know the name and genre-defining music. Notorious self name-dropper, chronic eyebrow pruner, partitioning facialhair artist, 7 day seducer and talented garage singer. But how did this unlikely tee-total lad from Southampton rise to fame? In light of Craig’s recently announced 2013 world tour, I’ve set myself the challenge of delving into the rise and fall (ft. Sting) and subsequent rise of the superstar from humble beginnings in Southampton to 12 Brit nominations at the height of his career.

Born to a carpenter and a Superdrug shop assistant, Craig Ashley David appeared into the world on one wet and dull spring day in 1981*. Raised on the Holyrood Estate, located less than a mile from Southampton Ferry terminal and the National Oceanography Centre, by his mother Tina and father George until their divorce. Superdrug’s Tina was of Jewish heritage from her grandfather and converted grandmother, and related to the founders of the Accurist watchmakers. Doubtlessly it was this family history that made him so inspired to document his activities by time. The music in his blood came from his Grenadian father George; when he wasn’t knocking up a few garden benches, he played bass in a reggae band called Ebony Rockers.




Craig spent his youth learning about oceanography (presumably), playing knock down ginger (presumably) and pursuing a footballing career as keeper for the Bellemoor Boys School team. Craig wasn’t distracted by silly sports for long though, with his music heritage proving too strong a lure. He started DJing at local youth clubs and writing his own music, gaining his first glimpse of the limelight when he was invited to work on a B-side for Baby Spice’s personal bit of spice (Jade Jones)’s R&B boy band Damage. A few more local DJ sessions and it wasn’t long before he met Pete Devereux and Mark Hill, better known as the Oliver Twist-inspired garage band ‘Artful Dodger’, also from Southampton.

First featuring on the somewhat unknown track ‘Something’ with some signature ‘mm-mmms’, Craig finally hit the big time in 1999 with epic anthem ‘Re-rewind (The Crowd says Bo Selecta)’ featuring the first of many self name drops in the memorable line ‘Craig David all over your...’**. For all of the embarrassingly ignorant out there, Bo Selecta means Good (Bo) DJ Selection (Selecta), so like a shout out to the DJ that he’s picked a good tune. Craig would prefer that we don’t mention the song title’s later use in Leigh Francis’ Channel 4 show so swiftly moving on to the song’s placing in the UK charts at number 2, encouraging our star to re-release the track on his own album ‘Born To Do It’ a year later. Experts even consider this song the point at which garage music entered the mainstream. Craig David; groundbreaking ‘ye-eeeah’ and ‘mm-mmm’er but also a genre defining maestro.

Re-rewind was the platform from which Craig David launched himself into super stardom, with one hit after another. First came ‘Fill Me In’, a track with I’ve only this week realised is not about Craig worrying his girlfriend is cheating on him, but in fact is a pained cry of woe at his new lady’s interfering parents questioning why she changed her outfit from white to black. Aged just 19, this song blasted straight to number one ahead of ‘Flowers’ by Sweet Female Attitude of ‘I’ll bring you flowers in the pouring ra-aa-ain’ fame. 


Next came track of the decade and probable*** highlight of Craig’s early career ‘7 Days’. A track which documents his quick-working seduction of some 24 year old cinnamon honey lurking in a London subway who responds to his advances with the line ‘I’d love to rendezvous’. It’s called 7 Days, but really, after a brief meeting on Monday at...oh...what time, Craig? (Must have been about quarter past three) they don’t meet until...wait, what did you suggest, Craig? (A date with me tomorrow at nine), so the seduction really takes place in a much smaller time scale. Unless of course, they were msn messaging in between the first meeting and the Tuesday rendezvous and Craig couldn’t fit this to rhyme. Needless to say, this song set the standard for all UK youth courting going forward. In Southampton circles, it’s deemed failure if it takes a guy any longer than two days to get into a girl’s pants. The Craig David Curse. 

After this second number one single, Craig had success with ‘Walking Away’, ‘Rendezvous’ (presumably detailing that Tuesday night date with the Cinammon Queen), ‘What’s Your Flava'****, Hidden Agenda (huh?) and Rise & Fall ft. Sting. Between 2001 and 2006, Craig released three albums (including the sexily named ‘Slicker Than Your Average’), notched up 4 MOBO awards, 2 MTV awards and 12 BRIT nominations (but no awards. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING JUDGES?). First album 'Born To Do It' was even voted 2nd greatest album of all time by MTV in 2009. Celebrity fans followed, including Quincy Jones, Missy Elliot, J-Lo, Usher and Arctic Monkeys:

Alex Turner said "One night me and Matt did a duet of Craig David - we made Serge from Kasabian throw up." 

Despite this success, his popularity seemed to wane and with the exception of 2007‘s Bowie sampled ‘Hot Stuff (Let’s Dance)’, later singles and albums struggled to hit reach the top 10, and in the case of single ‘Officially Yours’, the top 150. 

But that’s just the music. We all listen to and love that already. What you really want to know who is the man behind the Craig David mask? Well, that’s Leigh Francis of Bo Selecta fame. I’ve not watched the show because it looked well shit but apparently some people did and it had a negative impact on, if not Craig’s career, at least his mental wellbeing. As the R&B legend himself said:

"Inside it was absolutely pissing me off and hurtful beyond belief. There were times when I thought I just want to knock this guy out".

Craig David looking angry, and a bit wary

But Craig took the higher ground and didn’t resort to fisticuffs, instead choosing to focus on more worthy pursuits. In 2010, he became Goodwill Ambassador against Tuberculosis and in 2011 undertook a desert trek for Red Nose Day, alongside Dermot O’Leary, Lorraine Kelly and Nadia Sawalha. In 2012, following a fan video request here, Craig David surprised the video creators and self-declared 'number one fans' by attending their wedding. This humanitarian and fulfilling work seemed to spark something in Craig David, and in between hosting and DJing a weekly party at his own penthouse in Miami called ‘TS5’ and aired on KISS radio, mingling with Fern Cotton and Justin Bieber (the former is a mate, the latter is a HUGE Craig David fan6) he resumed his musical endeavours and was signed to Universal Music in January 2013. 

He revealed his new physique (see below) and announced his world tour in February, starting with Jakarta (Indonesia obviously a big fanbase of garage music), then a few Australian shows before heading back west to mainland Europe, hometown Southampton and a final show at the IndigO2 in London. 2013 is Craig’s year. Be there. 

This is what four shags a week will get you.

*http://www.london-weather.eu/article.120.html 
**Can’t help but feeling Craig sounds a bit like a rash here?
***I say probable, as Craig David is only 31 at the time of writing and so has plenty of time to produce material of an even higher calibre
****Street lingo for ‘flavour’

Game 9: The Jolly Dodgers vs. The Incrediballs

I have to actually start this on quite a serious and painful note. After a few beers and in the spirit of learning more about fellow dodgeballers, one player unexpectedly opened up and revealed that some young kids in their family were suffering neglect and abuse. I won’t mention real names for legal reasons as they’re both about six years old but the gist of it is they’re not being fed properly, they’re not washed, they're left to wallow in their own excrement, and they’re confined to a small enclosed space day-in-day-out. As the conversation developed, it came to light that this horrible physical abuse was being coupled with emotional abuse, with neither of the kids ever shown any affection or even being communicated with, which had resulted in them suffering with severe speech and language problems and an inability to walk, dress themselves or even use the bathroom. Everyone looked on completely dumbfounded and pained. Proper Jeremy Kyle. The Dodger Moores were completely unable to believe that this can be allowed to go on in London without authorities stepping in.  James and Pat seemed most upset by it, and without a second thought offered to adopt these innocent, abused youngsters.

The cruel abusers? Let’s just call them Smabbie and Stony (and in some respects, equally guilty onlooker Snicole) from the Sholly Shodgers. The victims? Let’s just call them Chips and Ian. Because they’re goldfish and those are actually their names. 

Of unknown origin, Chips and Ian started their childhoods in an all-male home (not like that) in Tooting along with several other adoptees who didn’t make it past their early years; victims of fish flu, gang warfare and sometimes victims of simply being so stupid they forgot to breathe. Concerned about the effect of bringing up kids in Tooting with so much violence and death around, Stony found them a mum and moved them to a flat in Bermondsey. Like many council estate parents, knowing how tough life was and the fish-eat-fish world we live in, they decided they had to be cruel to be kind. Chips, a poor, orphaned, estate fish clearly wasn’t going to grow up to be Rock Starfish and downtrodden, permanently under-nourished Ian wasn’t going to end up in the diamond-encrusted pond of Elton John’s estate. It just wasn’t on the cards for them. But maybe, just maybe they could become undercover police sting(ray) officers. Or if a career with the filth wasn’t for them, perhaps ruthless, but successful loan sharks. They were treated fairly but with discipline; never given things on a plate and having to work for their survival. It was harsh, but in the mid-naughties in South London, it was necessary. They grew up tough, with a chip on the shoulder (well just Ian, but that’s because the tank was small and he often had to be a chair for his fried-potato friend) and with aggression in their swim. But time had come for them to move on. Doubting their abilities as parents and concerned about their futures, like the Fresh Prince’s mum before them, on this night in the Loft in Clapham, Stony and Smabbie agreed to send their little ones off to the Bel Air of London; the What If! Offices in Baker Street.

So this Wednesday night, Chips and Ian whistled for a cab and when it pulled near, were helped in and driven through Elephant and Castle, Kennington and the grim streets of Stockwell to Clapham Leisure Centre, where their Uncle James was waiting to take them to their new home. We walked in, just casual gym visitors holding a large bottle of water with two frantic goldfish inside. Nothing weird about that, Clapham. Stop looking at us like that.

Yeah, they were going to a new home, but not before they got to watch their first (and probably last) epic game of Dodgeball though.

Just so we could say goodbye properly, we arrived 40minutes early. The goodbyes were cut short though as Abbie and I were roped into playing for a team with too few girls. We ended up playing for the Deadly Donkeys against Dodgy Style. Teams 1 and 2 in the league apparently, and after a whole three sets, it was pretty clear how they’d got to the top of the league. I won’t reveal too many of each team’s tactics and approach, but let’s just say it included a flagrant disregard for rules and sportsmanship, an unpleasant level of aggression, shouting and swearing and a willingness to override any referee decisions regardless of the accuracy of those decisions. The most unpleasant game I’ve ever played. Both teams as bad as each other. The only thing that made it redeemable was the comical reactions from spectators who’d picked up on the unsportsmanly tone of the match and were booing and heckling anytime anyone touched or threw a ball. Never again.

Right. Now down to the serious business of Jolly Dodgers 2.0 vs. The Incrediballs. We’d had subtle word from Go Mammoth's James A. the previous night that we were potentially looking at an easy match, as our opponents were supposedly lurking near the bottom of the league. The actual bottom of the league of course reserved for the lovely (but shit) Dodger Moores. Without wanting to make others complacent, I kept this info to myself ahead of the match, but took in a healthy dose of complacency myself. Error. As the first set began, I realised this team were actually a threat. They had some really strong throwers and catchers, with one girl being particularly lethal in her mopping up of our thoughtless high throws. The first set was fast, fun and finished a close 3-2 in the Jolly Dodgers’ favour.

Knowing this would be the last memory Chips and Ian would ever have of us (with all previous memories presumably forgotten), we made every three seconds count. Less concerned about the fish, Kira and Matt teamed up Canadian style with Matt producing some insanely good throws and Kira probably racking up more on-court minutes than the rest of us; Greg was back in town and as energetic as ever, spending his game creating as many different body shape jumps as he could; Thom had nailed the middle line rule though sadly helpful stand-in Adam hadn’t quite; Tony dropped to the floor a few times in what might now be his signature dodge and did an amazing cross court slice, catching an Incrediball by complete unawares and Abbie also caught the opponents by surprise by abandoning her scoop of a floor ball to catch the opponents long throw mere centimetres to the right. It was actually so mindblowingly unexpected and unlikely, understandably the other team didn’t think it had happened. WE didn’t even quite believe it, but it definitely occurred right there in Clapham on Wednesday 6th March at around 8.40pm. The ref hadn’t seen and our cries of ‘Catch! Catch!’ fell on deaf ears as the Incrediballs presumably thought we were cheating, so played on. Mid next game I took a second to clarify to the thrower that we weren’t trying to cheat, and whilst it looked impossible and ahead of it I would have given Abbie a 5% chance of catching a ball like that (at most), against all odds she really had done it. He appreciated the explanation and apologised for not going off, and we parted laughing about it. Good cross-team banter and honesty. Something other teams – not pointing any of my donkey fingers as that’s not my style – might want to consider. Just saying.

As seems to happen most weeks when he’s not busy *cough*going out with his new lady friend*cough*, Andy hid off court as the game started, just so he could appear mid-game in a dramatic fashion without warning. It’s almost like he just emerges out of the wall like that bit in Terminator 2 where T-1000 liquid-metal shapeshifts out of the floor. Or more realistically like Harry emerging from Kings Cross onto Platform 9 and ¾. Always unexpected and always explosive. He had a great game.

I, on the other hand, got hit in the face. And Matt caught a ball which had deflected off me before I could catch it, thereby getting me out. WE’RE ON THE SAME TEAM, TOE-SHOES.

Thom also showed himself up a bit when we had a near full side against one Incrediballs girl and he lobbed the ball at least 10m away from her, and across to the other court. We asked him to sit the next game out and think about what he had done.

The Incrediballs were fun. We won the second set, but it was still a close match. As well as entertaining by bringing their best dodging, one player also entertained by losing his glasses every few minutes on the floor. One time they slid across to Tony who hilariously put them on and tauntingly continued the game. I mean, it probably sounds like bullying, but it was seriously funny. There didn’t seem to be a lot of laughter from Glasses McGee, but presumably that was because he couldn’t see what was happening. They had the last laugh though as Tony failed to master the Incrediballs superhero ray-glasses and couldn’t see the ball flying straight for him. Well played, Incrediballs. Well played.

Final set flew by and we were 2-1 up and ahead in the next game (the last game of the match as it happened, because we ran out of time). The Incrediballs found themselves with one player against a school of Jolly Dodgers (fish reference. A call back.). The Incrediball knew the only thing you could do in this instance was go for catches so he helpfully passed all the balls back to us. A little too helpfully actually, and in a moment of forgetfulness he just did a gentle underarm throw to Tony. Game over.

Hand shaking to finish and then all off to to the Loft for drinks, where we only just stopped ourselves from agreeing to a hunger games battle-to-the-death wager of Chips and Ian vs the Japanese Fighting Fish at James' office. There was a round of drinks at stake, but after the lives they've led, like 16th Century British nobles who've spent their lives and energies on battle fields fighting the French and Scottish, they deserve to retire to their castle in peace.

Chips and Ian; A Journey:

 The Halcyon days

Literally poo-ing themselves with excitement

The 'tank to jug to bottle via a man-made funnel' manoeuvre

For transit

Editor's note: Some photos aren't real and are intended to demonstrate a stage in the proceedings that wasn't photographed. I'll leave you to spot the fake

Thursday morning. From James's flat to the What If! offices

The Castle, and peace at last...I give those other fish 5 minutes. Tops